


I'm Angry Because I Love You

by SnowyMountainside



Category: RWBY
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Angry Sex, Canon Compliant, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, F/F, I hate their stupid outfits, Imagine your OTP, Porn With Plot, Prompt Fill, Rough Sex, Volume 7 (RWBY), because you are scared of losing them and how dare they! how dare!, sometimes the people you love the most piss you off the most
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyMountainside/pseuds/SnowyMountainside
Summary: Yang and Blake find a rare moment of solitude in Atlas to vent their frustration following an encounter with Grimm. It's not the frustration they'd expect.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	I'm Angry Because I Love You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imaderice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaderice/gifts).



> Imaderice posted "NSFW Person A and Person B arguing over each other's personality flaws during a rough round of sex (brought to you by Eliasz)" in our bumbleby server and I could picture this so clearly. They were my bad idea bear and now you get to suffer with me.

There’s a clatter of heavy belts with combat kit and a hasty scramble to lock the empty meeting room with a wave of a scroll. That’s all the warning the silent space gets.

“ _Gods_ , -” Yang hisses as she backs Blake against the edge of the planning table, only to be cut off by a searing kiss.  
“You’re so _stubborn_ !” Blake finishes, nails fisting her girlfriend’s jacket collar. “You don’t _communicate_ in the middle of the battlefield!”  
“Yeah?! Well, _you_ try to solve the problem all on your own!” She grabs Blake’s shoulders, as if to check to make sure she wasn’t a shadow clone. “Who _does_ that!”

Blake wraps one leg around one of Yang’s and throws all her weight into flipping them over; it’s an easy win. She fists one hand in blonde curls and the other begins to strip the layers separating her from Yang’s skin like they are an affront to nature.

“Gee, Yang, I don’t know, why don’t _you tell_ **_me_ ** ? It seems like you’d **know** , after all!”   
“Shut up and fuck me, Belladonna.”  
“Gods, you wish, Xiao Long.” Blake takes a mouthful of tanned, sensitive neck skin between her teeth and sucks hard, small fangs digging down possessively before she breaks the seal in an abrupt, cruel _pop_. “You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

Yang makes a strangled noise that Blake can only process as a mixture of a whimper and an objecting yell as she hooks one elbow around Blake’s neck, forcing her closer into her body as she crushes herself into the Faunus in need. Her eyes flutter briefly as she takes several heavy gulps of air, trying to control both her pulse and her tears.  
  
“Don’t you get it? That’s literally the _last_ thing I ever want!” She gasps in surprise as Blake rakes her nails down her ribs, ending in a sharp hold wrapping around her hips. “You always run off to use yourself as bait and I **hate** it.”  
  
“How else am I supposed to keep up with your… your…” She falters as she finally manages to wrest Yang’s jacket off. “Your thick-headed charge into the center of the fray?! Maybe, just _maybe_ , if I can flank a few off, you’ll come home with me!”

A muffled scoff into the heat of Blake’s mouth is all the reply she gets, that and fumbles of Yang trying to undo her own overcoat. The lips pressing into her own sink into a frown as she feels the zipper tug and close the coat further, then tug again only to get right back where it was. Blake rolls her eyes and leans back, pinning Yang to the table hard with the tension in her thighs.

“... I hate that thing…” Yang mutters softly as she watches Blake simply unhitch the clasp and shake slender wrists free of the cuffs, the way a man lost in a desert might stare at a glass of water. “Your whole outfit is just.. Just… _so_ unnecessary.”   
“You’re one to talk, my love.”

The overcoat seems to melt off Blake as she flicks one of the zipper pulls on Yang’s thigh before she reaches up to essentially rip the snaps on Yang’s chest off. She purrs despite herself when Yang whines at the rush of cool air when her jumper is fully unzipped in one smooth motion. Yang’s response is to grasp the side of her lover’s neck in a firm, calloused grip and yank down the throat of her catsuit carelessly.

“Watch it! Atlas would charge you a fortune to replace this.”

“Who says I’d pay it?” Yang growls before, to her credit, quite reasonably peeling the leather down Blake’s shoulders. “At least _my_ zippers do something meaningful.”

She reaches down to unzip one of the thigh openings just enough to sneak in a light caress of sensitive skin and tease at the very edge of wet heat.

“Removable legs in a winter outfit will _never_ be meaningful, sorry sunshine.” Blake rasps, voice suddenly thick not with want but _need_. 

She swallows hard just to feel Yang’s thumb bob against her pulse and shivers when Yang’s eyes narrow in a threat. She doesn’t have a chance to retort, though, because Yang makes good on the suggestion and flips them again, slamming Blake down into the table a little rougher than perhaps wise after they’ve both used so much Aura. She doesn’t bother to stop and check on her, though, when Blake’s moan is reverberating in the space around them. Instead, she just doubles down on peeling the catsuit the rest of the way off. 

Blake feels tears start to sting in her eyes again in the sudden chill of Yang’s absence. It tightens her chest and steals her breath, an echo of the idea that anything might _take_ Yang from her. She still hasn’t managed to shake off the fear that Yang would _choose_ to leave, but the phantom pain pales in comparison to the thought of something outside of the two of them ripping them apart; possibly forever. Her touch turns gentle as she runs her fingers through Yang’s hair, letting her nails lightly graze her scalp, and Yang can hardly stand it. 

“Hey, no, don’t. I’m still mad at you, you can’t, just.” Red eyes blink back their own tears as Yang slides back into her line of sight.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you need to be punished,” Blake gently cups Yang’s cheek in her palm with a slight hint of fang in her smile. “... for being a dumbass?”   
“I say I like it when you’re _feisty_ , not _sassy_.” 

Blake gives a chuckle deep in her throat, a sound that actually _does_ run a little fear up Yang’s spine. She uses just her thighs to shove Yang’s jumper the rest of the way off, then rolls her body up with snake-like fluidity to slide her palms along shaking abs. Her nails hitch under the edge of a suddenly too-flimsy croptop. As the “shirt” passes over Yang’s elbows, Blake catches her in a kiss that feels disgustingly sweet in the middle of their argument. As Yang’s about to complain, she feels the slight coiling of Blake’s legs and then the world turns white for a moment before she realizes she is staring up at the ceiling again.

“Tough shit.” Blake purrs.

Yang whimpers, trembling in slight excitement and feeling steam begin to wisp off her skin in response to Blake anchoring her full body weight into her hips and locking their legs together. The _tease_ of friction almost brings burning tears to her eyes, only to be snuffed out when Blake sinks between her legs. A fingertip lazily circles her clit while two fingers bury inside her to the last knuckle, stealing the air from her throat and sending a shudder all the way through her core. Any other time such an abrupt entry would likely hurt, but Yang can’t deny that she’s been too far gone since the moment they reached the door, let alone by the time they hit the table… the first time.

“Also, I seem to recall you _love_ it when I’m feisty.” 

Yang groans with a roll of her eyes before bracing her palms behind her against the table for the leverage to grind into Blake’s hand, trying to bury the dumb dialogue under pleasure. Blake hums in unofficial victory and appreciation while the grinding pins her hand between them starts to stimulate her as well. She reaches behind Yang’s head and grabs her hair close to the scalp, enjoying the short burst of heat Yang’s semblance generates in response. She coos softly when she’s able to easily curl her fingers into Yang.

“You’ve been wanting this since that last Grimm faded away, haven’t you? You’re such a thick-headed goddamn thrill seeker, fuck.”  
“Shut up.” Yang huffs, entirely toothless as she groans, leaning her head back into Blake’s fist. “Besides, you’re wrong.”

“Oh?” Blake stops moving entirely. “Do go on.”

“Oh you b-” Yang hisses and barely stops herself, sucking on her teeth to pull the bite of her tongue back. “It wasn’t the last Grimm.” She does a performative body roll as a show for Blake, slow and languid as if they have all the time in the world and nothing pressing to do. “It was the first.”  
“Mmm, didn’t I kill that one?”  
“Damn right you did.”

Blake gives her own throaty moan, the first acknowledgement of how much Yang has been affecting her the entire time. With a soft hiss, she moves one leg higher alongside Yang’s body, knee nearing the bottom of her ribs, and uses the other to nudge Yang’s thigh to spread her wider. The chill in the air elicits a gasp as it blows over her and Yang tries to turn her face, only to cause a tug in Blake’s grip, causing her to whimper and shatter.

“Blake, please, just, fuck me. I need you.”

Blake feels her heart seize and she breaks, too. She releases Yang’s hair in order to cup her cheek as she kisses her tenderly, thrill rising again at the keen into her mouth.

“Silly thing. Of course. After all…” Blake pulls out and grabs Yang’s thigh, much to her partner’s despair. She hooks the powerful thigh over her hip, purring as the strong grip immediately pulls into her. “I’m right here, sunshine.”

She leans back down to take a deeper kiss, opening her mouth in silent demand while she returns her fingers to Yang’s clit. The rhythm and stroke she sets is gradual, not wanting to shock Yang’s senses but clearly heading towards a goal purposefully. Yang eagerly responds to Blake’s command, savoring the taste of her, and gives up anything resembling control. While they’ve practiced the fine art of stillness and silence in shared quarters, with a locked room all to themselves she’s all sound and motion. She whines and keens and borderline simpers into Blake’s lips, lets her swallow down the fruits of her labor, while grasping for purchase on the sweat-slicked amber skin laying flush against her. The way she writhes under Blake causes a vacuum to seal and pop under her lower back, and she doesn’t give a damn about the loud knock of joints on hard surfaces.

It’s not until Blake begins to thrust her hips in a pull at hands with her hand that she’s finally able to find purchase, nails sinking into the lean, corded muscle just below Blake’s neck. She breaks the seal of their for a breathless _fuck_ that lingers in the air around them and settles in Blake’s chest. She moans low and throaty, something Yang can feel on her lips, and that’s all it takes for the kiss to come back with a vengeance. 

Blake stops bothering to vary her motions and changes to direct thrusts, stimulating the underside and the head of Yang’s clit. She makes an effort to roll against the ridge and hood on her downbeat, accents it with extra force through her hips. It’s everything she’s learned from reverie of Yang’s fiery glory time and time again in their short, stolen moments for the last few weeks, and it pays off immediately. Yang’s all fragile whines and gasps while peppering shallow kisses while she fights to pull air into her lungs, to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Blake feels the burn in her back and the ache in her shoulder, inspiring her to lean down to Yang’s ear.

“Stop chasing the dragon and cum for me already.”  
“ _Shit._ ”

It’s all the warning Yang can give before she’s pulled under, her grip tightening to the point Blake’s aura pulses with her heartbeat. The strength of Yang’s body means Blake has to press an armbar into Yang’s clavicle to keep her pinned down, despite the bodylock she’s got her in. The aftershocks ripple just as intensely, Yang’s fluttering eyelids flashing irises that dart between lilac and crimson. Blake doesn’t waiver in the face of the power, doesn’t flinch; instead of fear, she finds comfort. 

She leaves Yang’s mouth free to sing her swan song, knowing there’s no way to kiss down the tempest that is Yang Xiao Long. Instead, she laps at the sweat in the hollow of her throat, the nape of her neck, drinks in the strength of the muscles that trail to her jaw. She purrs happily in gratitude for the deep well of Yang’s aura now that she’s tempering her semblance and bites down heavily over her pulse point.

The wail becomes a hiss eventually - was it seconds? Minutes? Blake’s lost track of time and frankly doesn’t give a shit - and she taps Blake’s shoulder blade in rapid succession, a non-verbal sign they use for ‘stop, mercy’. Instantly Blake’s rolling them onto their sides and is gently caressing her, anchoring her senses back from overwhelm to luxuriation for the afterglow. A final flash of red flies by as Yang draws in her first full breath, settling immediately into the crook of Blake’s shoulder.

“You’re still stubborn and have awful tastes in fashion.”  
“And you’re still reckless. It’s okay though.”

Yang leans back to look up at Blake, her objection melting away at the soft smile on her face.

“Oh? And why is that, exactly?”  
“I’m still ridiculously head over heels for you.”

Blake gives an easy shrug, like it’s the most simple thing to say in the world. Yang’s eyes fill with tears all at once and she hides her face in Blake’s neck, unable to face the open affection. She recalls vividly, physically, the all too recent past when a simple statement of affection, let alone love, was like fighting at the Fall of Beacon all over again.

“I love you too, Blake.” Yang pauses then, pulling back just a little to look up at the edge of Blake’s jaw. “So, uh, you…?”  
Blake smirks. “What about me?”

Instead of letting Yang ask stupid questions, Blake nods her head towards Yang’s thigh. Cum is smeared in the crux of the leg she’d all but straddled moments ago. A shiver runs up Yang’s spine while she fakes a groan of complaint.

“Oh come on! Blake! That’s so rude, honestly.”  
“Hm? Is it?”

Blake’s response is lazy, a self-contentment in her drawl before she shifts to further wrap around Yang’s body. She starts to purr faintly while beginning to nudge Yang’s head aside, so she can press her lips against the steady beating in her neck. She knows they’ll have to clean up and get their kit back on, soon, but right now the only thing that exists in her world is her incredibly stupid girlfriend who she absolutely can’t stand. Obviously.


End file.
